A New Kind of Literary Pulse

The Forbidden House
I knew what it was. I knew the house on the beach and that I needed to get there. I was there late at night when I knew I had to get away from my mom screaming that the walls ... [+]

I am not, nor have I ever been, an artist.
I am and have always been, a dreamer.
When I was in 3rd grade I had a necklace from Claire’s, which, in plastic silver letters, labeled me ... [+]

A pale, blonde woman in pink scrubs first asks my name and birthday. She has an accent that sounds Scandinavian, and she looks past the tears in my eyes as I answer her questions. She leads me down ... [+]

I love puzzles. It’s calming to know that everything has its place, and that if I look hard enough I will find it. It doesn’t matter how many times I break a puzzle down; with a little effort, I ... [+]

I was in love with the way the dainty pink mouse glided across the stage, her tutu twirling as she pirouetted and her rose-colored bow following the motion of her outstretched arms with every grand ... [+]

Gemma’s Hair
In sixth-grade, Gemma’s assigned seat was next to mine. My only knowledge of Gemma was that:
1. she played the youngest von Trapp child in our school’s production of The ... [+]

Stretched out between the living room and the kitchen, straddling the fuzzy carpet and cold tile, lies the warm spot—a vent affectionately named for its delightful puff onto a child’s cold toes. I ... [+]

A dark grey weight pulled down on the city, washing out the color and light. The air was dry, and a suffocating heat wafted between the buildings and over the streets. A reminder that beyond the ashen ... [+]

Memories are like puzzle pieces – tiny snippets of a bigger picture, meaningless in isolation. One piece might show half of a face; one memory might contain a happy moment. You can’t tell what a ... [+]

“Why am I not a wizard?”
“Why would you want to be a wizard?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Wingardium Leviosa my problems away forever? That would be so much easier than facing them alone ... [+]

I remember visiting Heidi in San Francisco, when I was younger. She was so charismatic in those days, her icy blue eyes glinting mischievously as she lay sprawled out beneath the window, looking like ... [+]

I went to bed early last night, which is something I only do when I could really use some extra sleep. It was a good plan and an honest attempt to take better care of my body. But at 12:45 a.m., I ... [+]

Dear —,
Here’s my two cents about thieving: if you’re going to steal someone’s heart, you should let them have yours; it’s hard to live without a heart, you know. If they can’t have ... [+]

The radio blares on, playing the latest pop song, a radio game, or a discussion of the day’s traffic. You look over to the red analog letters: 4:30 AM. The sun has yet to wake up, it’s still ... [+]

A frigid breeze whipped across my face. I, standing on the shore, stared out across a glacial lake of Homer, Alaska. As our tour guide informed us, that glacial lake sits in the mountains full of ... [+]

Today I had orange eggs for breakfast.
I thought it was strange so I looked it up and found that an especially happy chicken lays eggs with orange yolks. It saddened me to think of the countless ... [+]

How do you politely throw up in the back of a taxicab? I can feel my stomach tightening, the bitter, acidic taste rising in the back of my throat. I look down at the cardboard bowl provided by the ... [+]

I’m going through my collection of CD’s—A Pentatonix Christmas, Mariachi Cobre, Tim McGraw—when a small paper book bound by two orange ribbons with a water-color picture of pink and coral ... [+]